Did I promise a new post every week? Well, that was unrealistic! I would have to live far belong the normal allocated span even for tough old girls to do that, the amount of stuff I produced over the years. So here is Blog #3, punters, and may they continue to appear with similar rapidity.
Tricking Miss Po
The door slammed, echoing down the long hall. The clip-clop of wooden heels attached to sensible leather court shoes followed, reached the end, turned right and dropped out of hearing.
“Someone’s not pleased with us, Milky Moo,” Handish whispered to her toy cow. The lunch tray contained some very ordinary-looking fare, but Milky Moo took a few pinches of sandwich, and swished her tail a bit.
“Now, we have five point oh-eleven hours in which to construct our next welcoming surprise.”
The front of the classroom was raised some ten centimetres to provide a stage. In the corner was a store cupboard which Handish pulled to one side to reveal a trapdoor.
“Wait here,” she said to the cow, and descended some wooden steps.
“Now,” she said gravely to the cow, “resources are limited, so we must be resourceful. Height of door equals two metres, height of cupboard two point five. Door opens outwards but away from cupboard, that’s good. Maximum tension on rope, E=mc squared; friction component zero point two five L times F, contents of bucket – what? Moo poo? I’m afraid you haven’t provided much lately, what little being consumed inadvertently by Madame Po. Girl poo? Altogether too gross and likely to have lingering after-effects. Ground chalk pastel – yes! Clinging and rumoured to be toxic.”
With their breathing protected from the dust by covid masks, girl and cow spent the afternoon grinding chalk pastels to dust against the side of the bucket.
A half-hour before dinner was due, the surprise was assembled. Right on cue, Madame Po’s key turned in the lock. The knob turned. The bucket began to slide down the rope, the base collided nicely with Po’s head and overturned, and a satisfyingly large component of its contents entered Po’s hair and slid down inside her collar. Unfortunately the uncovered portions of the dinner tray copped some too.
Po slammed down the tray and gazed fiercely around, failing to see Handish and Milky Moo lying flat on top of the store cupboard. She spoke into her wrist communicator:
“This is the worst job I have ever undertaken. Get someone else to service your genetically-IQ-enriched babies – I’m spitting the dummy!” She stamped out.
The door slammed, echoing down the long hall.
Marooned on Ice
Tall ship moving through the night,
Gliding along with a watery purr.
Captain knew just where they were,
In the pale moonlight.
BUT
His complacent thoughts began to lash!
The captain asked, “Is this a storm
coming out of the north – it’s hardly the norm!”
He felt the prickling of a nervous rash.
THEN
Wake up you guys, all hands on deck!”
A mighty wave had suddenly risen,
Took away the mainsail, top and mizzen
And the crows from the high crowsnest
AND THEN
While the captain called, “Come men, be brave,”
To the southernmost land they rapidly sped,
So fast that big squid and whales fled
From their dashing path.
UNTIL
A monstrous great iceberg received them.
Ten thousand penguins gathered ‘round
The superb new shelter they had found:
And they all had to stay there until the next tourist ship relieved them.
Watercolour
